Twisted Sister
by StaroftheDunedain
Summary: Winchester-sister fic. Sam's not the only psychic in the family and there's more than one hand dabbling in the Winchesters' fates. Rated for mild cussing, innuendo, and mild gore. Basically Dean being Dean and hunting.
1. One Nightmare

AN: This is a Winchester sister story, hopefully not too cliche. Sam is not the only one with visions and powers come from a few different places. I started this with no knowledge of what happened post mid-Fourth Season, so it is extremely AU after Dean's return, while only being fairly AU up till then. This is my first work and the Beta is done by the fabulous SylvannaWincheseter and all mistakes are mine entirely. Reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I did then the Impala would never have been wrecked in Season One. Rose however, is all mine.

One Nightmare

_The two men struggled, trying to push the weight off, escape from the creature's hold. Almost in unison they started screaming in pain as their chests were ripped open, blood spurting from the wounds until the screaming stopped and the laughter began._

Except the screams didn't stop completely.

It was almost three a.m. and the dormitory at Evenwoods Girls' Academy was disrupted by terrors in the night, someone wailing out the tortured words "Dean!" and "Sam!" sounding as if her heart was being broken in front of her.

The lights came on all over the dorm as teachers and students alike raced toward the source. There was no question who it was. It had happened before and it was always Rose Winchester.

The dreaming girl's roommate was there first, frightened herself, as she tried to shake her friend awake. "Rose, come on, wake up, please!"

Just like that, the screams stopped and then her eyes flew open. "Oh, God!" she choked, gripping her friend's arms so tightly bruises would form by morning. "I gotta do something!" Abruptly she let go and, still not quite awake, started pulling on her jeans. "I- I've gotta go"

Before Carol could make any more moves toward her friend or even ask any questions, Ms. Johnson—the hall mistress—arrived. "Dear Lord, Miss Winchester! Are you all right?"

"No ma'am," she said, still not quite in control of herself. "My brothers, I mean..." She trailed off and shook her head, clearing it and visibly pulling herself out of her dream state. "Yes, ma'am. I'm fine." She shrugged and sank back onto her bed. "Nightmare."

"Do you need anything?" The teacher asked, concerned about her student. Rose shook her head, smiling very weakly. Ms. Johnson looked at her suspiciously before sending all the gawking girls to bed with a stern warning to stay there.

"Rose again?" asked Ms. Halen , one of the other teachers that had come running. Ms. Johnson nodded.

"That poor child," Ms. Halen said in a hushed whisper. "And she'd been doing so well lately too. It's been what, six months, since she last woke us by screaming." She glanced at the door as she went to her own room. "I don't think I really want to know what that girl's seen."

What indeed? Rose Winchester's nightmares were as legendary as they were mysterious. She never spoke of them, barely acknowledged their existence during the daylight hours.

Because of them, she wasn't a kid with many friends; despite the fact that she was charming, polite, friendly (if reserved) bright, and extremely pretty.

Still, she had a few, Carol being her closest. Carol was ignoring Ms. Johnson and sitting on Rose's bed. "Was it your mom again?" Carol didn't know exactly what had happened to Mrs. Winchester, only that it had been horrible and that Rose had witnessed it. Which was more than anyone else knew.

"No," Rose said, slumping back against the pillows. "This was about…it was about my brothers. They were being attacked."

"By whom?"

Rose smiled grimly. "By what?"

Carol shivered. "Ugh-monsters." She patted her friend's shoulder, attempting to offer comfort. "Good thing they aren't real."

Rose didn't bother to correct her, even though she knew better. One of the first things she had ever learned is that you don't discuss Hunter business with non-Hunters.

Obviously, Rose was used to nightmares, but this one felt different. The second thing she had learned was that doubting your instincts could get you killed.

So she began to formulate a plan as she stared up at the shadows she'd never trust, praying that she was wrong.


	2. Two Siblings Meet in Arizona

_Two Siblings Meet in Arizona :_

Dean Winchester was driving like a bat out of hell. Of course, he always drove like that, but he was actually distracted this time. He was driving toward Stamford and the brother who'd cut himself off from the family business of killing monsters to go to school and lead a normal life. And Dean was about to go pull him back in.

He was so distracted that he drove right past the pretty girl sitting on the side of the road without more than glancing at her. Not at all his style.

Just then his cell phone rang. "Yeah, Dean here."

"Hey, Dean."

"Oh, Rosie." He couldn't help but smile at the sound of his baby sister's voice. "It's funny that you called. I just saw a girl out of the corner of my eye that reminded me of you."

"That's because it WAS me, you dummy! You just drove right past me!"

"What the hell!" He did a crazy u-turn, heedless of few other cars on the highway. He slammed on his brakes when he got next to her, flinging the door open. She slid into the Impala's backseat, tossing her bag into the back. "Seraphina Rosemary Winchester, (he ignored the wince she gave at her hated first name) what the hell are you doing sitting on the side of the road two thousand miles away from your school?"

She stared at him. "You've never yelled at me before, Dean."

"Yeah, well, I've never had to before!" He ran his hand through his short, dark blonde hair. "What the hell were you thinking, hitchhiking across the country like that?"

"I wasn't hitchhiking!" she protested, sounding affronted. "I was, like, seven feet away from a bus stop. I'm not stupid, Dean!"

"Yeah, 'cause that was so brilliant, Rose." He snapped. She leaned back against the seat, crossing her arms and glaring at him. He groaned, recognizing the irritated look on her face, and calmed down. "I know you're not stupid. Just, tell me; why were you at a bus stop in Arizona?"

"Because I ran away from school," she answered plainly.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I figured that out. Why'd you run?" He watched her as she stared out the window. "I thought you liked school."

She shrugged. "It's ok. I miss you guys."

"Well, we miss you too, Rose, you know that." He ruffled her hair affectionately, absently noticing that it was about three inches longer since the last time he'd seen her. "But that doesn't mean you can just run off. Where were you going anyway?"

"To meet up with you and Sam. And I didn't leave Evenwood just because I hate being the superstitious freak with the pentagrams and the EMF detector made out of a busted up walkman." Dean didn't say anything out loud, but he shifted uncomfortably and a guilty look crossed his face. Rose decided to cut him some slack and change the subject. "Dad went missing on the last hunt didn't he? That's why you're going to see Sam."

"Yeah," he answered automatically. "Wait, how'd you know I was going to see Sam? Or that Dad was missing?"

"I just knew about Sam." She let her almost black hair out of its ponytail. "I had a dream about you two, fighting something together."

"A dream?" he asked with disbelief.

"A nightmare really," she corrected thoughtfully. "I get them all the time, but this one was different."

"Different how?"

"Do you remember, a couple of years ago, I called you and Dad to tell you about St. Pine, Georgia ?"

"Yeah." He frowned, trying to recall the circumstances. "You'd, ah, been doing research for a school project and figured out that there was a Snatcher at work."

She snorted. "There wasn't any project. That's the story Dad gave you. I had a dream about it. Well, about a future attack."

It took a moment for Dean to wrap his head around that little bit of information. "Are you saying that you see the future?"

"It only happened the once," she said, feeling oddly defensive. "I just thought it was some weird cross-frequency thing. But it happened again Thursday."

"How'd you know it wasn't just a dream? I mean, nothing's happened yet."

"I just know, ok," Rose answered. "If Sam said something like this you'd believe him."

"I never said that I don't believe you, Rosie," he argued, a little surprised at her outburst. "I'm just making sure you're sure, that's all."

"I know and I'm sorry. It's just," she searched for words for a moment then gave up. "Nevermind, I don't know what came over me. I really am sorry."

"It's ok. I'm kinda glad you're with me anyway, aside from the obvious fact that I'm glad to see you period that is." He smiled and ruffled her hair again, just to annoy her. "I'll probably need your help convincing Sammy to come along. You can use those big, green eyes of yours to talk him into it."

"We have the same eyes, Dean." Said eyes rolled when she saw his music collection. "Seriously, Bro? It's all 80s rock."

"They're cuter on you. And what's wrong with my music?"

"For one thing, it's all on cassette tapes-which are cassette tapes. You know, prehistoric."

"Hey, the car's a '67; you're lucky it's not got an eight track player and Disco. Besides," he popped in a Black Sabbath tape, "Driver gets to pick the music and shotgun," the music started up. "Shotgun gets to shut his or her cakehole."

Nobody said anything for a long moment. "So," Rose asked finally, "When do I get to drive?"


	3. Third Winchester Enter, Stage Left

AN: Thank you all for your reviews. :) I am definately going to continue... This is actually an epic project.

_Third Winchester Enter, Stage Left_

It had been a long drive from Arizona to California, which meant a few stops for gas and snacks that never seemed to completely fill Dean's vacuum like stomach. "Do you ever stop being hungry?" Rose had asked when she opened his fourth bag of chex-mix since lunch. "You're not exactly a growing boy anymore."

"I did once, about two years ago I think," he'd answered, dodging a playful blow to his shoulder.

Still, shortly after midnight, they did finally get there. "I think this is a bad idea," she whispered in Dean's ear as he was picking the lock on their brother's apartment door.

"Why? Some premonition of yours? Ow!" The last bit was said when her hand connected with the back of his head.

"Common sense. Why are we committing a crime instead of just knocking?"

"Common sense. Sam lives with a girlfriend now. We can't just waltz in and start talking about going off on a family hunting trip." The door swung open silently. "We're being stealthy about it. Plus," the door opened and Dean winked at her, "This is more fun."

"Well, I still think it's a bad idea." It was almost pitch black inside, so Dean pulled out his flashlight.

They hadn't gone very far, when someone charged Dean. In the ensuing fight, Rose felt around for a lamp, muttering to herself about idiotic older brothers. The instant the light went on, she could see that Dean had gained the upper hand and was grinning, holding Sam down. "You're out of practice," he teased, seconds before Sam flipped them.

"Dean!" He stood and let his brother up, brushing his too long bangs out of his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was looking for a beer," Dean replied cheerfully.

"What the *hell* are you doing here?" Sam repeated, unaffected by Dean's humor.

"Okay, all right. We gotta talk."

"Uhm... the phone?" He gestured to it dramatically.

"If I woulda called you would you have picked up?" The jovial tone was gone and Rose decided that it was time to interfere before another fight started.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "the last time I saw you two wrestle, I'm pretty sure Sam was the shorter one."

Sam whirled around so fast it was a miracle he didn't give himself whiplash. "Rose?" He stared at her, flabbergasted.

"Hi, Sammy." After a solid minute of being stared at, she told him, "You look like a fish with your mouth open like that."

He shut it with a snap. "You got tall," compared to his own six foot six, her five foot two wasn't all that impressive, "Taller. And your hair's longer. And, erm...yeah, you grew." He glanced at Dean with a vague hand motion Rose supposed meant something about her getting breasts.

"You haven't seen me in almost three years, Sam," she reminded him. "A girl changes when she hits puberty."

Just then, another female voice entered the conversation. "Sam, what's going on?"

All three Winchesters looked over at the doorway, where a lovely blonde woman was standing in nothing but a Smurfs belly shirt and her panties.

Sam went over to stand next to her. "Jess, that's Dean."

"Your brother, Dean?" Jess sounded a lot more delighted than her boyfriend had been.

"Yeah, and that's Rose." His tone was a little softer when it came to his sister.

"Sam, you never told me she's such a beauty," Jess admonished. "You're going to be in so much trouble."

Rose's nose crinkled in confusion and she opened her mouth to ask a question, but Sam interrupted her. "This is my girlfriend Jess."

"It's great to meet you," Rose said, remembering her manners.

"Just, let me put something on."

"No, no, no," Dean protested. "I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. I love the Smurfs." Sam was shooting his brother a dirty look. "Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. Nice meeting you."

"No." Sam said forcefully. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

"Okay. Um, dad hasn't been home in a few days." Dean's face gave nothing away.

"So he's working overtime on a Miller time shift," Sam replied dismissively. "He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

"Dad's on a hunting trip... and he hasn't been home in a few days." Dean Winchester wasn't one to carefully choose his words, but he did for his brother's sake, not wanting to screw anything up for Sam.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."


	4. Four Years of Normalcy

_Four Years of Normalcy_

Rose followed her brothers into a stairway. The tension was palpable and it tasted to her like moldy cheese.

"I mean," Sam said immediately, "come on; you can't just break in, in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."

"You're not hearing me Sammy," Dean argued. "Dad's missing; I need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst, or the devil's gates in Clifton ? He was missing then too, he's always missing and he's always fine." Sam crossed his arms stubbornly and leaned against the railing.

"Not for this long. Now you gonna come with me or not?"

"I'm not"

"Why not?" Dean demanded to know.

Sam stood straight, gaining back the five inches he had on Dean. "I swore I was done hunting for good."

Dean wasn't intimidated. "Come on, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad," he argued.

"How can you say that?" Sam shook his head. "You were there! Do you remember when I told dad when I was scared of the thing in my closet? He gave me a .45."

"Well what was he supposed to do?" Dean was genuinely confused, meeting his little brother's eyes and hating having to look up to do so.

"I was nine. years. old. He was supposed to say 'Don't be afraid of the dark.'"

"Don't be afraid of the dark? What are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark!" Dean brought his hands up to thump Sam's chest lightly. "You know what's out there!"

"Yeah I know but still- the way we grew up after mom was killed, and dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her! But we still haven't found the damn thing, so we kill everything we can find!"

"Save a lot of people doing it, too," Dean said proudly.

"You think mom would have wanted this for us?" The group wandered outside, Sam warming to his topic. "The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."

"So, what are you gonna do?" Deans's voice was almost disgusted. "You just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?"

"No. Not normal." Sam insisted. "Safe"

"And that's why you ran away?" Dean scoffed.

"I was just going to college. It was dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

Sam and Dean were staring daggers at each other and Rose decided that it was time for some female sensitivity to take over. "Look, Sam, I'm not a huge fan of all of Dad's decisions, but that doesn't change the fact that our _father _needs us right now. I…"

"Rose," Sam interrupted, obviously trying not to sound patronizing. He failed. "You're fifteen and Dad sent you to school when you were, what, twelve? You'd barely started helping us hunt. All this sounds glamorous. But Dean shouldn't have dragged you…"

"Now hold on a damn minute!" It was Dean's turn to do the interrupting. "I didn't drag her anywhere! I passed her sitting at a bus stop in Arizona and I'm putting her on a bus back first thing in the morning."

That was Rose's breaking point. "Shut up! Both of you just shut up!" Caught off guard, the men did as commanded. "You can't tell me what to do! I'm not being sent anywhere, Dean, not again! I never wanted to go away! But I did what I was told because I trusted my dad! And you know, he was wrong!"

"You were safe," Dean said quietly. "We couldn't protect you with me having to hunt solo and Sam not willing to stay with you."

"No, I was NOt safe. I was alone." She turned to Sam. "And as for me thinking I've been missing out on something glamorous, I'm the one who saw Mom getting attacked! I saw her die!"

"But," Sam exchanged a horrorstricken look with his brother, "you were just a baby."

"Yeah, well, I still see it in dreams, I kow how it happened," she said coldly. "And dad never clearly thought out that, in an attempt to keep me safe he handed me off to complete strangers. I never knew at a given moment if either of you were alive or dead. It sucked." She sighed and gave them each a very weak smile. "Now, I'm not gonna make anybody get all gushy or anything, but we're a family." Her smile turned into a very hard look that was rather foreign to her nature. "So, do you think we could, for once in our history, stick together and act like one?"

Dean glanced over at Sam. "You know in almost two years I've never bothered you. Never asked you for a thing."

He was still indecisive; until, that is, Rose added one more statement to her speech. "By the way, Sammy, I'm sixteen."

"All right. I'll go," he relented, "I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here."

"What's first thing Monday?"

"I have this…I have an interview.

"What, a job interview?" Dean laughed. "Skip it."

"It's a law-school interview," Sam retorted, "and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?"

Sam got that pissed off look again. "So we got a deal or not?"

"We got a deal," Rose answered for them both. "Go pack. We'll be out by the car. Which, by the way, is Dean's now, so don't expect to EVER get to drive." Dean stuck his tongue out at her and missed Sam retreating into the apartment.

Inside, he started packing before talking to Jess, so it was with a little shock that she asked, "Wait you're taking off? Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"

"Yeah, you know," he bluffed, "just a little family drama."

"But your brother said he was on some kind of a hunting trip," Jess said, trying to clarify.

"Aw yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin," Sam explained before adding bitterly, "he's probably got Jim, Jack, and Jose along with him. We're just gonna go bring him back."

"What about the interview?"

"I'll make the interview," he assured her. "This is only for a couple of days." He kissed her softly before heading out the door.

She grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving. "Sam, I mean, please, just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?"

He faked a smile. "I'm fine."

"It's just…you won't even talk about your family and now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend the weekend with them? And with Monday coming up which is kind of a huge deal." She let him go, but looked up at him with confused eyes.

"Hey," he kissed her again, stroking her cheek. "Everything's gonna be okay. I will be back in time-I promise." He kissed her one last time and left, grabbing his laptop on the way.

Dean was waiting by the driver's side door when Sam got out there. "Rose already called shotgun."

"Figures." He threw his bag in the trunk. "Scoot the seat up, I need more leg room than you, Shorty."

Dean started up the engine, the sound of it so familiar that no one said anything for a long time. Dean was the one who broke the silence at last—by laughing quietly.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked, before being shushed.

"She's asleep."

Sure enough, the youngest Winchester had curled up into a tiny ball, contorting around her seatbelt. "That can't be comfortable," Sam whispered. "She always was able to sleep anywhere."

"Apparently some things never change, Sammy."

"You know Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. It's Sam, okay?"

Dean frowned, staring hard into the lights on the dash, muttering to himself. "And some things do."

"Just, tell me about Dad."


	5. Five Miles Out

_AN: Sorry about the weight, school got a little hectic. But here's chapter five for y'all. Mostly unbetad, so all mistakes are mine. _

"All right." Dean reached over his sister and pulled a battered looking, spiral bound notebook out of the glove compartment. "Here we go."

"So, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago this guy," he handed Sam a newspaper clipping, "They found his car but he'd vanished, completely M.I.A."

"So maybe he was kidnapped," Sam speculated.

"Yeah well, here's another one in April," he kept handing his little brother articles, "Another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92. Ten of them over the past twenty years, all men, all on the same five mile stretch of road." He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Sam looking interested, smiling to himself. "Started happening more and more so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." Dean took out his cell phone and passed it into the backseat. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday."

Sam pushed play and they could hear their dad's voice through heavy static. "Dean, something is starting to happen, I think it's serious. I need to try to figure out what's going on." There's a moment of nothing but static, then their dad's voice emerged again. "Be very careful Dean, we're all in danger."

Sam sat quietly for a second, absorbing the information. "You know there's EVP on that?"

EVP, or Electric Voice Phenomena, was a long used tool by Hunters, both professional and amateur. It was made by living humans imprinting thoughts directly on an electronic medium through psychokinesis and communication by discarnate entities

"Not bad, Sammy," Dean congratulated. "Kind of like riding a bike isn't it? All right. I slowed the message down, and ran it through a Gold Wave which took out the hiss, and this is what I got."

He replayed the voicemail and, quite clearly, they both heard a woman's voice saying, "I can never go home."

"'I can never go home,'" Sam repeated slowly, failing completely to notice that his brother had used the dreaded nickname.

Rose picked that exact moment to mumble in her sleep and shift, bringing her brothers' attention to her. Sam frowned, remembering their conversation from earlier.

"Dean?"

"Yeah."

"Did you say that you found her at a bus stop in Arizona ?"

"Yep," Dean answered, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"Well, what was she doing there?" He looked accusingly between the two of them. (The effect was lost on the practically unconscious teenager). "There's something you aren't telling me."

"Haven't told you," Dean corrected, "Haven't told you. Yet." He went from gripping the steering wheel to tapping out a Metallica song on it. "She's, uh, having visions."

"Visions?" Sam was flabbergasted. "As in psychic visions?"

"Apparently the one who didn't spend her entire youth fighting the supernatural is the one who got some freaky-ass supernatural powers. Which is really ironic when you..."

"So, what'd she see?" Sam asked, interrupting his brother.

"Us. Fighting something." Dean stroked her hair back from her face affectionately. "She didn't actually tell me that she saw us getting our asses handed to us, but…"

"But it's hard to imagine her running out to California if we weren't," Sam finished.

Dean nodded. "Look, Sammy, I'm not gonna say that we had that apple pie life, but Dad did the best he could by all of us."

Sam snorted. "Tell that to Rose. I'm pretty sure she hates his guts."

"No she doesn't," Dean protested. "She wouldn't have come out here if she did."

"She came out here for us!"

"Partly. But also for Dad. She said so."

Both brothers knew that Rose would help someone she hated, especially if she was supposed to be loyal to that person. They also knew that she was soft hearted enough to forgive her family nearly anything, so they could neither one prove themselves right.

Finally, Sam rolled his eyes and dropped the subject. "Anyway," he said. "Arguing about how she feels about Dad doesn't answer the main question: What are we going to do with her when this is all over?" He looked down at that sweet face that both he and Dean knew covered a particularly pig-headed nature. "Somehow I doubt she's going to go back to that school without a fuss."

"Maybe she shouldn't," Dean suggested, "Maybe she should throw a temper tantrum. God knows she never threw them when she was little."

Sam snorted. "Never had to; you were wrapped around her little finger. All she ever had to do was look up at you with those big eyes and stick out that lower lip and she got the last bowl of Lucky Charms every time."

"It's not my fault she could always make herself look like a kicked puppy," Dean said defensively. "Besides, I don't remember you ever taking anything away from her either."

Sam just rolled his eyes and settled into a sleeping position. "Wake me up when it's my turn to drive."


	6. Six Minutes of Hell

_AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate any comments anyone would like to leave me. I apologize inadvance for this chapter, writing action is not my strong suit. _

A long and lonely highway stretched out in front of Troy but he didn't notice, preoccupied as he was with talking to his girlfriend on the cell phone. "Amy," he was saying, "I can't come over tonight…. Because I got work in the morning, that's why." He laughed. "Okay, I miss it, my dad's gonna have my ass." He saw a beautiful, dark-haired woman standing by the side of the road. "Hey…uh…Amy," he said to his girlfriend, "let me call you back." He hung up the phone and pulled alongside the strange woman.

She looked out of place on the highway. Troy had seen plenty of hitchhikers in his day, but she did not seem like one. She had no bags and her clothes were not the clothes of a traveler. She was wearing a long, white, short-sleeved summer dress despite it being early November. She was barefoot, but she showed no outward sign of distress, no panicked expression like she was running away from anything or anybody. In fact, she seemed perfectly serene, almost expressionless. It was almost creepy.

Still, it would not do to leave a beautiful woman on the roadside. So, rolling the window down, he asked. "Car trouble or something?" He failed to notice the radio flickering on and off.

She simply answered, "Take me home."

Troy answered, "Sure, get in." He tried to be nonchalant, despite the fact that he kept sneaking glances at her chest. "So, where do you live?"

"At the end of Breckenridge Road ," the strange woman answered.

"You coming from a Halloween party or something?" Trot tried for conversation. "You know, um, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here." He watched her pull up her skirt to reveal her thigh, all while she looked out the window absently.

"I'm with you," she said coyly, reaching over to take Troy's chin in her hand and turn his gaze from her thigh to her face. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Uh-huh," he answered with a dumbfounded expression.

"Will you come home with me?"

"Um…hell yeah," he said, stepping on the gas pedal.

The house he arrived at was boarded up and seemed abandoned. "Come on," Troy said with a laugh, "You don't live here."

"I can never go home," the woman in white said mournfully.

"What are you talking about?" He couldn't shake the nervousness from his voice. "Nobody even lives here. Where do you live?" He turned back to his mysterious passenger, only to see that she had disappeared. He stepped out of the car, calling out, "That was good. Joke's over, okay? You want me to leave?" He walked up to the front door of the deserted house, attempting to convince himself that he wasn't scared. "Hello? Hello?" Some bats flew out of the house's shuttered up windows. He screamed and ran back to his car, slamming into reverse.

Once the car was headed in the right direction, he glanced into his rearview mirror. The mysterious woman in white was sitting in his backseat.

He screamed again and slammed on the brakes, going through a "Road Closed" sign, and stopping on a bridge. His screams intensified. Until she ripped out his throat, blood splattering onto the windshield and windows.


	7. Seven Broken Laws

Rose slept all the way to Jericho and only woke up when Sam poked her shoulder. "Wake up, sleepyhead," he teased.

She sat up, yawning. "Where are we?"

"Gas station," Sam replied.

She gave him an annoyed look and opened her mouth to say something snarky but, just then, Dean opened the car door. "Morning, Sunshine." She turned her grumpy look onto him. "Oooh, never mind."

"I gotta pee," she muttered, getting out of the car. As soon as she was gone, Sam stole her seat.

Dean laughed and held out breakfast bars and soda cans. "Hey, you want breakfast?"

"No thanks," the younger brother said with a grimace. "So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah well…hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career," Dean said, shrugging. "Besides, all we do is apply, it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah and what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked sarcastically.

Dean climbed back into the Impala. "Uh…" he glanced down at the plastic, "Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

"Burt and Hector Aframian'?" Rose repeated, coming over and snagging a bar from Dean's hand. "Seriously? What happened to the obviously stolen rockstar names?"

"Hey, they could be regular people too."

She rolled her eyes. "Right 'cause there are so many Angus and Malcom Youngs in the world."

"God, you do have a good memory," Dean said with a slightly incredulous tone.

She nodded, mouth full of granola. "Did you get me any soda?" she asked after swallowing.

"For me and Sam. You get a carton of good, old two percent."

"I don't like milk," she complained, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Yeah and I know you don't drink it when I'm not around to make you," Dean countered. "Girls need calcium."

"You suck," she said, not wanting to acknowledge he was right. "I think you do that sort of thing for no reason other than to be annoying." She noticed Sam sitting shotgun. "You suck too." She slid into the backseat, toeing off her shoes so she could stretch out, smirking when she saw Sam looking at Dean's music.

"I swear man," Sam said emphatically, "you gotta update your cassette-tape collection."

"Would you two brats stop complaining about my musical tastes?" Dean requested, popping a Metallica tape into the player.

"It's useless, Sam," Rose said, retaliating the earlier poke to the shoulder. "You remember the house rules?"

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole," Sam muttered. "Dumb rule."

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you," Dean countered, turning up the volume. "The music's too loud." They pulled out of the gas station, music blaring.

They drove that way for several miles, until they saw a bridge where several police cars were clustered around a pick-up truck.

"Check it out," Dean said, slowing to a stop and pulling a box out of the glove compartment. Inside it were over a dozen fake identifications and badges.

"Oh, cool!" Rose exclaimed, leaning up, only to have her hand slapped. "Hey!"

"Me and Sam will be handling the impersonation of officials, thank you," Dean said. "You stay in the backseat and out of sight."

"Oh come on!" Rose protested.

"Look, Rosie, you can't possibly pass for anyone in law enforcement," Dean reasoned.

"Ok," she sighed, flopping back onto the seat. "Is there anything I _can_ do."

"Yeah," Sam interjected. "Call the hospital Ask about Dad."

"'K. Have fun storming the castle." She laughed at her brothers' faces. "Yeah, I so went there."

They neither one had a response to that, so they just headed toward the bridge where one policeman was yelling to two other policemen who were coming out of the river. "Did you guys find anything?"

"No, nothing!" one of them answered.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints," the officer poking around the victim's vehicle said thoughtfully. "Spotless, it's almost too clean."

The man who had been talking to the divers turned his attention back to the officer at the truck. "So this kid Troy, he's dating your daughter isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"How's Amy doing?" he asked, leaning against the bridge rail.

Amy's father didn't look up. "She's putting up missing posters downtown."

Dean and Sam came into the taped off area. "You fella's had another one just like this last month, didn't ya?" Dean asked.

"Who are you?" one of the officers asked.

"Federal Marshals," Dean answered, showing off the fake badge.

"You two are a little young for Marshals, aren't you?" the same cop asked.

"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you," Dean said with a grin. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, about a mile up the road." He turned and pointed. "There have been others before that."

"So this victim," Sam asked, "you knew him?"

The officer nodded in response before clarifying. "In a town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Dean started circling the truck asking, "Any connections between the victims besides that they're all men?"

"No, not so far as we can tell."

"So," Sam questioned, going over to stand by his brother, "what's the theory?"

"Honestly?" The officer shrugged, looked around at his fellow cops, none of whom were volunteering to speak. "We don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well that is exactly the kind of crack police work that I'd expect out of you guys." Dean's voice wasn't obviously sarcastic but Sam knew him well enough to know when he was being a smartass—so he stomped on his foot.

"Thank you for your time," Sam said politely, looking around at the other policemen.

"Gentlemen." The cops watched the brothers leave. As soon as they were out of hearing range

Dean smacked Sam hard on the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Why do you have to step on my foot?" Dean asked.

"Why do you have to talk to police like that?" Sam countered.

"Come on," Dean said defensively. "They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean if we're gonna find Dad, we've gotta get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

Sam cleared his throat and nodded his head towards Dean's back. Dean turned around and saw the sheriff and two important looking investigators standing there.

"Can I help you boys?" the sheriff asked.

"No sir," Dean said with a rather charming smile. "We were just leaving." He nodded in acknowledgement to the two men in suits. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." He and Sam continued on their way to the Impala and Rose, very much aware of being watched.

"Well, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue," Rose said immediately upon her brothers getting back into the car. "So that's something, I guess. Now, tell me everything."

Between the two of them, nothing was left out. She just rolled her eyes when told of the little squabble on the bridge. "Seriously, Dean, X-Files?" She listened to the rest of the story. "Well, we are going to look for the girlfriend-Amy right?" Sam nodded. "We're going to look for her first aren't we?"

The men looked at each other. "Why not?" Dean asked, still feeling a little guilty about leaving her in the car, which was currently making its way towards town.

"Cool. Can I sit up now?" Rose asked. "I'm getting carsick."

"Don't you dare puke in my car!"


	8. Eight Feet of Water

AN: Sorry about the delay, folks. This one's really long though to make up for the absence. Btw, you can help the story along through feedback *hint hint* Again, I own nothing at all. If I did Rose would be real, Dean and Sam would never have serious fights, and Castiel would get to shw off his badassness more often.

They parked in what little downtown there was and started searching the streets for a girl hanging up "missing" posters. They found one in front of the Jericho Movie Theater.

"I'll bet you that's her," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

Rose just rolled her eyes in a sort of "well duh" expression.

They approached the girl and Dean was the first to speak to her, saying, "You must be Amy."

"Yeah," Amy replied, looking at them with an air of confusion.

"Troy told us about you," Dean clarified, "we're his cousins. I'm Dean, these two are Sam and Rose."

"He never mentioned you to me," Amy said with a shrug.

Rose laughed, "well that's Troy, I guess." She shrugged, "we're not around much; we're up in Modesto." She smiled weakly, "we came down to look for him too, and we're kind of asking around."

Another girl came up to Amy asking, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Jenny," Amy answered with an obvious lie.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam asked.

All five of them walked to a restaurant where they settled into a booth; Amy and Jenny on one side and Rose slightly squashed between her older brothers.

"I was on the phone with Troy," Amy was explaining. "He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam didn't really know what to hope she said in answer.

"No, nothing I can remember." But it definitely wasn't that.

Rose could see that Amy was about to cry, so she said, "I like your necklace," in an effort to distract her a little.

Amy pulled the small pentagram charm all the way out of her shirt and smiled. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff."

"Actually," Sam said before he could stop himself, "it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil, really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing."

"Okay, thank you Unsolved Mysteries," Dean said sarcastically. Rose just kicked Sam under the table, which was hard considering he was sitting next to her. "Here's the deal ladies-the way Troy disappeared—something's not right. So if you've heard anything…"

Amy and Jenny exchanged a glance.

"What is it?" Dean asked, pretending to be just mildly interested.

"Well," Jenny drawled out, shrugging. "It's just…with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" all three Winchesters asked at once.

Jenny laughed a little uneasily. "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial like…decades ago." She took a sip of her water before continuing. "Well supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up—Well, they disappear forever."

"Well," Rose said, elbowing Dean in the ribs just hard enough to get his attention, "thank you both so much for your time. We're going to do our best to find out what happened to Troy, Amy." All three Winchesters slid out of the booth and Rose shook Amy's hand. "I promise."

She was so sincere that, when Amy searched her eyes, she found herself smiling for the first time since her boyfriend had disappeared. "I believe that you will. Thank you."

The next stop for the Winchesters was the Jericho Public Library. Dean commandeered one of the computers and pulled up the "Jericho Herald" web page. In the search bar he typed in "Female Murder Hitchhiking". The page came back saying, "No results found." He tried typing in "Female Murder Centennial Highway." Again the screen flashed up, "No results found."

Sam stuck out his hand to grab the mouse. "Let me try."

"I got it," Dean argued, smacking Sam's hand. In retaliation, Sam pushed Dean's rolling chair out of the way. "Dude," Dean protested, rolling back over and unsuccessfully attempting to push his younger brother out of the way. "You're such a control freak."

"This is silly," Rose laughed, poking Sam in the ribs where she knew he was ticklish and making him jump out of the way instinctively. When Dean took up his former place, Rose plopped into his lap and took the mouse away again. "So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" she confirmed.

"Yeah," Dean said, peering over her shoulder at the screen.

"Maybe it's not murder" she theorized, typing in "Female Suicide Centennial Highway ". She smirked when the first result of the day popped up. She started reading from article. '"This was 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old; Jumps off Sylvania Bridge , drowns in the river."'

"Does it say why she did it?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Rose answered, frowning.

"What?"

'"An hour before they found her,"' Rose read, '"she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute, she comes back and they aren't breathing. Both die."' She stared at the screen. "Wow, that's rough. I'd probably kill myself too."

"Hmm," Sam mused, neither of the men knowing what to say to something like that.

Rose went on to read from an interview with Constance's husband. '"Our babies were gone and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband, Joseph Welch."

Sam shifted to look at the screen, which showed a picture of policemen at the same bridge that Troy was found on, carrying away Constance 's body in a bag. "That bridge look familiar to you two?"

"Looks really familiar," Dean answered for them both, before fake shoving at his sister. "Good work, Rosie, now get the hell off of me!"

She beamed at the compliment then frowned. "Call me fat and I'll hurt you." She climbed off his legs.

"Do I look stupid?" he asked, making a show of rubbing his thighs like they were numb.

Sam sniggered and Rose grinned. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Dean just glared at them both. "Bridge. Now."

They didn't leave for the bridge right then however, because they had to wait for the police to leave the scene. So Sam used his laptop to send Jessica an email, Dean poured over their dad's journal, and Rose pulled out a notebook of her own.

The guys thought it was a diary, which seemed a normal enough, girly sort of thing for Rose to have (even if Dean did tease her about it). But it wasn't, at least, not a normal, girly diary. It was a catalogue of all the Supernatural events in Rose's life, including all of her dreams and, well, a few other things her brothers didn't know about.

It was dark by the time the Winchesters returned to the bridge. They left the car and started exploring.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean said looking down into the water below. "Long way."

"So you think dad would have been here?" Sam asked, getting right to the point.

"Well," Dean answered, "he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay so now what?"

"Now we keep digging till we find him. It might take a while."

Dean's answer did not please Sam. "Dean, I told you," the middle Winchester said irritably, "I've gotta get back by—"

"Monday.," Dean pretended to suddenly remember. "Right, the interview."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this aren't you?" Dean's face clearly showed his skepticism. "You think you're just gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"

"Maybe.," Sam said with a shrug. "Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you?" The skepticism turned to disdain. "I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

"No and she's not ever going to know," Sam said vehemently.

"Well that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." He turned and started walking away from Sam down the bridge.

Sam followed him "Who is that?"

Up until that point, Rose had been ignoring her brothers' argument, not wanting to take sides and feeling slightly sick that the first time she'd been with both siblings since she was twelve years old was marked by almost nothing but fighting. But Dean's answer forced her to start paying attention.

"One of us," he answered.

Rose stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped doing anything but blink back tears.

"No," Sam argued almost violently, "I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"Well you've got a responsibility," Dean stated matter-of-factly.

"To dad and his crusade?" Sam asked for clarification, laughing bitterly. "If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what mom looks like." His face turned into a kind of questioning grimace. "What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom's gone, and she isn't coming back."

Dean was ready to punch his brother and Sam was ready to take it and make their fight physical, but to both of their surprise, Rose was the one who grabbed Sam's shirt and shoved him with all her strength against a rail on the bridge. "Don't talk about her like that!" Rose yelled. "You got five more years than I did! And Dean is right, ok, you do have a responsibility! She was our **Mom**. She gave birth to you, don't you think you owe her?" She looked over at Dean and saw a smug expression on his face. "And you!" She let go of her grip on Sam to focus all that temper on Dean. "You think that to be 'one of us' you have to spend your life hunting? What does that make me? God, it's like you don't even count me as one of the family!"

Dean stared at her, shocked and searching for words. "Rose, that's not what I meant. You know better."

"Well that's what you said," she said, sounding more defeated than angry. She turned to walk back to the car and saw a woman in white on the side of the bridge. "Um, Guys."

They turned to see her too. The woman looked towards the group, before she let go of the rail she was holding on to and fell off the bridge. They all three ran over to where they saw her drop, but there was no sign of movement or sound to show that she'd actually gone in the water.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked

"I don't know," Sam answered.

Rose didn't say anything, just leaned out a little farther than her brothers to see if maybe the woman had landed on the bank.

Suddenly, from behind them, they heard the Impala's engines start.

"What the—" Dean started to ask, liking none of the possibilities.

"Who's driving your car?" Rose asked quietly, big eyes even bigger.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys to show that no one could be driving the Impala. As one they turned to see the car starting to drive down the bridge towards them. And as one, they started running in the opposite direction.

Sam's long legs took him ahead of his siblings. He looked over his shoulder and yelled, "Come on, guys! Let's go! Go!"

As the car got closer, Sam, Dean, and Rose ran towards the side of the bridge and jumped off the railing.

Dean and Sam, with their longer arms and greater strength, were able to cling to the outside of the railing. They struggled to pull themselves up then looked around and saw that Rose was missing. They looked back over the railing and saw a ripple of water from where their sister had fallen.

They looked at one another in horror, and raced down the side, both of them screaming her name all the way.

Sam got there first and saw Rose floating in the water. He pulled her out onto the bank and dropped to his knees beside her, checking her breathing rate. She was barely drawing air and she had a head wound. He started to call 911 but had no signal. "Dammit!"

Dean immediately dropped to his knees when he caught up, pulling her into his lap. "Come on, Baby Girl, wake up!"

Sam scrambled up the bank until he found some signal while Dean continued to plead with Rose to wake up.

Suddenly, she took a deep breath and started coughing. Dean helped her sit up and rubbed her back as she coughed up water. "Do you smell that?" she asked with a frown as soon as she could speak, her voice raspy.

Relieved, Sam hung up the phone with a shaky laugh. "I just smell you."

Dean kept rubbing her back. It was something that had always comforted her when she was little and now he was scared, so he kept it up, pretending that it was to make her feel better. "You smell like a toilet," he explained.

"No, well, yeah, I do, but I smell something else too. It was really strong a second ago, like, I don't know, frozen evergreens." She shook her head and winced when pain flashed through her skull. "Ow, nevermind. Must be the seeping head wound. How's the car?"

Dean laughed. "That's my girl."

Dean pretty much carried Rose up the bank to the bridge before setting her on her own two feet, while Sam dug out the first aid kit.

"Car all right?" Sam asked, wiping the dirt away from Rose's injury. It wasn't really that bad, only in need of a butterfly bandage and some antiseptic.

"Yeah," Dean answered, obviously relieved. "Whatever she did to it, it seems all right now." He put the hood down. "That Constance chick—What a bitch!"

"Well she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." Sam said, sitting next to Rose on the hood of the car, so he could better disinfect the wound. "So where's the trail go from here, genius?"

"I found, ouch!" Rose jerked away and Dean squeezed her knee comfortingly. "I, ah, found the spirit in the first place. You guys get to do the next part."


	9. Nine Kinds of Crazy

**A.N. This is a long one to make up for the space. Rating might go up for a very dirty word used only once with good reason. Dean dean dean. I still own nothing.**

It was a quiet drive to the hotel; the siblings were all still pretty shaken. Dean had a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel-now that the fear and relief had passed, the rage was setting in. Rage against the creature that had tried to hurt his baby sister, one of his three reasons for living. Rose was staring at the floorboard, trying to repress her shivers. Sam watched her in the rear-view mirror and wordlessly turned on the heat.

The hotel was a seedy looking place. They all three tramped into the lobby, Dean pulling out his credit card and giving it to the man behind the desk. "One room please," he requested. "And a cot to put in there too."

The man inspected the card, eyebrows raised. "You guys having a reunion or something?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam questioned.

"That other guy, **Bert** Aframian," the clerk explained. "He came in and bought out a room for the whole month."

"Do you mind telling us which room?" Sam asked eagerly.

"Weeell," the clerk answered, scratching at his scraggly beard, "I'm not that sure I should. Lotsa weird people ask questions at a hotel like this one."

"Please, Sir," Rose said, stepping forward. "We really need to find him." She smiled beseechingly up at the clerk with her big, green eyes.

Rose didn't recognize the look she was receiving from the man, but her brothers did and they each took a step closer to her. "There's not much I wouldn't do for a woman as pretty as you," the clerk said, even though Rose looked younger than sixteen with the bandage on her forehead and the wide eyed expression on her face. He handed her the room key. "207."

"Thanks," she said sincerely, planning on waiting for her brothers. She gave them a confused look when Sam told her to "go on and check it out. We'll be there in a moment."

"Ooook," she answered, going toward the door.

The instant it shut behind her, Dean was leaning across the counter. "Look, man," Dean said with an obviously fake smile on his face, "that's our little sister. Our **underage**, little sister." Sam just rested his hip against the counter, letting his six-foot-five frame fill the clerk's personal space.

"So," Dean continued cheerfully, "if you even think about making another move on her, one of us..." He fisted his hands in the guy's shirt, his voice going low and dangerous, "will rip you limb from fucking limb. Got it?" He received a shaky, terrified nod in return. "Good." He snatched up the keys. "Thanks for the service."

Both men had managed to hide the anger by the time they got to their dad's room. They paused outside it to share a grin. "I think he pissed his pants," Dean said triumphantly. Just then, they each felt a hand at their collars as they were jerked backwards through the open door.

They looked around at the extremely messy room. The bed was unmade and there were pictures and newspaper articles covering the wall.

"Whoa," Sam breathed.

The light from the dirty window was pretty dim, so Dean turned on a lamp, and under it was a half-eaten hamburger. Sam started walking around a table that had a circle of salt around it on the floor. Dean sniffed the burger and grimaced, the smell being too rancid for even him to deem palpable. "I don't think he's been here for a couple days, at least."

Sam picked up a pinch of the salt, saying "salt, cats-eye shells. He was worried. "Trying to keep something from coming in." He noticed Dean inspecting an article on the wall. "What do you have there?"

"Centennial Highway victims," Dean answered, rubbing his hand over his chin the way he did when he was thinking. "I don't get it. I mean different men, (neither man noticed Rose walking across the room) different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

He looked to Sam for a possible answer, but it was Rose who picked up a piece of paper reading "Woman in White" and smacked herself in the forehead. "Well, duh," she said, then laughed. "Dad figured it out."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, both men turning to look at their sister.

"He found the same article we did," Rose explained. "Constance Welch, she's a Woman in White."

Dean looked around at the pictures on the wall of the men who have been victims and chuckled. "You sly dogs," he said to them.

"All right." Sam ignored his brother and got right to the point as usual. "So if we're dealing with a Woman in White, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness," Rose mused, something not quite fitting into place in her head at the whole idea.

"No," Dean said with confidence. "Dad would want to make sure, he'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No," Sam answered, shifting through the pile of papers. "Not that I can tell. If I were Dad though, I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive."

"All right," Rose said, clapping her hands together once. "Why don't you see if you can find an address. I'm gonna get cleaned up, 'cause as Dean said so eloquently, I smell like a freaking toilet!" She started toward the bathroom, then turned and pointed a warning finger at them both. "And don't you two jerkwads even think of leaving me behind again. You need a woman's touch in this particular venture." Sam nodded and Dean saluted. Rose giggled. "Dean, could you get my stuff out of the Impala? You made me come right here from the lobby for whatever weird reason."

"Sure thing," Dean said, slapping Rose on the butt just as she shut the door.

When the water started up, Sam looked over at Dean, then back down at his feet which he shuffled awkwardly. "Hey Dean-What I said earlier, yeah, I'm sorry."

Dean held up a hand up to stop Sam from going further. "No chick flick moments."

"All right, jerk," Sam said, no real heat behind his words.

"Bitch," Dean replied, almost affectionately.

Sam laughed as Dean left the room, poking his head back inside for a second. "Hey, Sam, you know who might appreciate a chick flick moment? Rose, who is, well, a chick. Just saying." With that, he actually left.

Sam then went over to the dresser, where there was a picture on the mirror, of all three of John Winchester's kids when they were younger, Dean and Sam leaning against the Impala, Rose in Dean's arms, one hand holding tight to Sam's hand.

A little later Sam was checking his voicemail on his cell phone and Dean was stretched out on one of the beds, a baseball game on the TV.

"Hey," Jess's recorded voice was saying, "it's me. It's about 10:20…"The rest was inaudible, as Rose came out of the bathroom, much cleaner and smiling.

"Hey guys, I'm starving," she complained.

"Let's go grab something to eat at that diner down the street," Dean said as his own stomach was protesting the lack of food deposits made that day. "You want anything?" he asked Sam.

"No."

"Aframian's buying," Dean said, waving the credit card. Rose followed him out of the room and started walking toward him toward the car.

"Crap," Rose muttered, "I left my comb in my bag. I gotta get it, my hair is a tangled mess."

"If you spend an hour in there prissying up, I'm gonna leave your ass here and bring you back the lettuce from my burger," Dean warned.

"Yeah, yeah," Rose replied with an exaggerated eye-roll. "Give me five minutes to grab it.

I'll meet you in the car." She crept back into the motel room. "Forgot my comb," she mumbled when Sam looked up at her. "You sure you don't want anything?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," he answered, trying to figure out what to say to her, not particularly happy with having his little sister mad at him, especially when he was in the wrong. But he was saved having to think of something right away when his cell phone rang.

It was Dean. Who was looking at the parking lot where two cops were talking the pervert who manned the hotel check in desk. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the check-in man pointed towards him, (looking rather vindictive at that) so he called Sam.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Guys," Dean replied, "it's the five-o. Take off."

"What about you?"

Rose started looking a little nervous at Sam's questions. "What about who?" she asked, tugging on Sam's sleeve.

"Uh, they kind of spotted me," Dean answered Sam's question. "Go find Dad." Dean hung up and turned to face the two policemen, who had reached him. "Problem officers?" he asked innocently.

"Where's your partner?" the cop questioned.

"Partner? What—What partner?"

The cop facing Dean signaled to the other to go check the hotel room. From inside the hotel room, Sam could see the man coming up to the door, so he started them off escaping.

"Wait," Rose said, not knowing what was happening. "What's going on? What's up with Dean?"

"Cops," Sam muttered, pulling her through the hotel room to the window. "We gotta get out of here. Up." He put his hands on her waist and hoisted her through.

"Ow!" She landed on her butt, glaring at Sam when he landed perfectly on his feet. "A little warning next time, Sasquatch." He pulled her up and started dragging her away. "Ok, ok, Mr. Bossy, I'm coming. Geez."

Meanwhile, Dean was still being interrogated by the first policeman, who was smirking. "So. Fake US Marshal," he was saying, "fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs," Dean answered with a smirk of his own.

The second cop came back, shaking his head to indicate that Sam and Rose were gone. Together, the cops shoved Dean down onto the hood of the police car.

"You have the right to remain silent."

Surprisingly, Dean actually was until he was settled into a chair in an office inside the station house.

"So you want to give us your real name?" his arresting officer was asking patiently.

"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent." Dean refrained from humming Cat Scratch Fever under his breath, but it took a lot of effort.

"I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here," the cop said, never losing his cool

"We talking like misdemeanor kind of trouble? Or uh…'squeal like a pig' kind of trouble?"

Dean asked, wondering if this was all about some jackass wanting revenge for not being allowed to hit on a teenage girl. It wasn't.

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall. Along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo jumbo," the cop leaned forward looking directly at Dean with a kind of earnestness in his eyes that reminded Dean a lot of Rose and really, that was random. "Boy, you are officially a suspect."

It took a minute for Dean to process that information because, as he told the officer. "Of course I am. That makes sense. Cause when the first one went missing in '82, I was three."

"I know you got partners; one of them's an older guy." The cop leaned back in his seat, undeterred by Dean's logic. "Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me…Dean..." He reached into a box on his desk and pulled out a journal. "Is this his?" Dean stared at it, the officer might as well have disappeared entirely. "I thought that might be your name." There was a hint of a smile on the cop's face. "See, I leafed through this, what little I could make out. I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy." He thumped through it again, just for effect, letting Dean get glimpses of the drawings and notes inside. "But I found this, too." The policeman opened the journal to a page that said "'Dean 35-111' Now, you're staying right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

Dean just continued to stare at the journal. 


	10. Ten Minute Flashback

AN: Sorry about the delay y'all. Craziness. I thought I'd let you know a little about my plans for this story. I know it's close to the pilot right now, but I have big plans and I will be much more original in later parts. But I'm starting that right now. As always, reviews make it go faster and keep me going. Again, I own nothing but Rose and an Audry Hepburn hat that would look good on her.

Joe was washing dishes when he heard the insistent knocking starting up. "I'm coming," he called, drying his hands and starting toward his door. He opened it and found two strangers, a tall young man and a shy looking young woman.

"Hi uh, are you Joseph Welch?" The young man asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm Sam Marshall and this is Rose Tucker, we'd like to ask you a couple of questions if that's ok." Joe just shrugged and led the way into his living room. Sam and he sat on the couch, while Rose went to stand by the mantle. It was easier to see everything and she was a curious girl. Sam handed Joe a picture of John Winchester. "Did this man come to see you?"

"Yeah," Joe answered. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

"That's right," Sam agreed, glad to have a line to go by. "We're working on a story together."

"Well I don't know what the hell kind of story you're working on," Joe said indignantly, "the questions he asked me."

"About your late wife Constance?" Sam probed, trying to be a little more subtle than his dad had probably been.

"He asked me where she was buried."

"And where is that again?" Sam asked.

Joe was starting to look a little pissed off. "What, I got to go through these twice?"

"It's fact checking," Rose said soothingly, "if you don't mind, Sir."

Joe nodded, almost magically put more at ease by the sweet tone. "In a plot behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"Why did you move?"

Rose could see the whole thing blowing up in their faces at her brother's rather insensitive handling of the situation. Really, guys were hopeless. But Joe seemed more sad than anything when he answered. "I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died."

"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" At least that one seemed like a semi-appropriate question for an article on the effects of suicides on family members. (Which was what Rose had decided their article was about should Joe actually care to ask).

"No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known." There was something a little off about his answer, like he was trying to prove a point and not just answer a question.

Sam picked up on that too. "So you had a happy marriage?" he asked, pushing just a bit harder.

This time, there was an actual hesitation before he answered. "Definitely." It didn't sound very definite to either of the Winchesters.

"Well that should do it," Sam said. "Thanks for your time." He started to walk back towards the door, but then he noticed Rose wasn't following him.

He saw her still standing by the mantle, a family photo in her hands. It looked like she was concentrating hard on something. Suddenly, all the color drained from her face and she collapsed slightly, holding onto the mantle for support. Concerned, Sam took a step toward her, but she waved him away, mouthing, "Give me a minute."

Joe was looking at him curiously, not having seen Rose's strange actions. "Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a Woman in White?" Sam only asked it to buy time and that was the first thing he could think of.

"A what?" It worked. Joe was distracted.

"A Woman in White, or sometimes a Weeping Woman. It's a ghost story. Well it's more of a phenomenon really." Now that he'd started, Sam decided to just explain the whole thing. Who knew, maybe he'd get some kind of reaction. "Um, they're spirits. They've been cited for hundreds of years. Dozens of places; in Hawaii and Mexico. Lately in Arizona and Indiana. All these are different women, you understand. But all share the same story."

Joe's reaction was to get angry. "Boy I don't care much for nonsense."

But Sam was danged and determined to finish his explanation. "You see, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed. Walking back roads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him, and that man is never seen again."

"You think-You think that has something to do with Constance?" Joe stared at Sam as if he were a lunatic before the look of anger with which Sam was readily becoming quite familiar replaced it. "You smart-ass".

"You tell me," Sam replied, keeping his tone even.

"I mean maybe—maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance would never have killed her own children!"

"I know," Rose said, interrupting Joe mid-rant. "It was an accident. But she only left them alone in the tub because she found a lipstick stain on your shirt. You two were fighting while your children drowned."

Joe's face turned ashy. "How did you...?" He pointed them toward the door. "Now you get the hell out of here, and you don't come back!"

They left the house and Sam turned to his sister while he was opening the car door. "How the hell did you know that, Rose?"

She shrugged and slid into her seat. "If I concentrate on an object, sometimes I see stuff connected to the people who own it, stuff they associate with that object. Just another way I'm weird I guess."

Sam couldn't exactly tell her it was normal to see both past and future. So he glossed over that point and asked "does it hurt? It looked like it."

"It's..." she frowned, searching for the right word. "It's like my brain twists or something. What I see, it's usually sort of muted and dull looking, like a really old home movie. So, it's a bit of an overload when I come back to the present." She could see Sam opening his mouth to ask more questions and held up her hand. "Please, Sam, let's just go save Dean then we can all go and discuss my freakishness together. OK?" She smiled when he nodded and leaned her head against the window, eyes closed.

Sam was quiet for about half a mile, trying to find the right way to say what he needed to. "Look, Rose, what I said about Mom and Dad, on the bridge. I'm sorry."

"I know," she said lightly. "I forgave you already." She sat up straight. "Can I confess something?"

"Sure."

"I think Dean was right. To be one of us, you have to be a hunter."

A pang went through him. "Rose, he loves you, he wants you in the family. I'm betting that he spent half his days wondering what you were doing and how you were and if you were eating enough."

"I know that, I'll apologize when we get him out of jail." She ran her hand through her hair in a nervous gesture Sam realized she had picked up from him. It made him smile a little. "But I meant, I've been sneaking out of school and, well, hunting things. It all started two years ago with a poltergeist actually in my school and then it was the vengeful spirits in a local house then the were-wolf one town over. You get the picture."

"What?" Sam couldn't help his voice raising. "You went hunting, at fourteen, with no backup! How could you be that stupid!"

"Yeah, Sam, I know, but I wanted to, you know, make you guys proud of me..." she trailed off and looked at him with puppy dog eyes.

"We are." Dean was the one who ruffled her hair, Sammy put his hand on the back of her neck and squeezed gently. "But it was still stupid!"

"I know, I know. Kick my butt about it later." She slapped his shoulder, big smile plastered on her face. "Now let's go spring our big brother from jail." 


	11. Eleven Miles Outside of Town

**AN: Here's the next chapter folks! Hope you enjoy it. **

Back at the police station, the officer was still questioning Dean about the numbers under his name in the journal. "Jesus Christ," Dean answered. "How many times I gotta tell you. It's my high-school locker combo."

"Are we gonna do this all night long?" The cop asked, rubbing his temple wearily.

Another policeman poked his head in the office. "We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road ."

Dean's policeman asked "Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"No," Dean answered, a little confused.

"Good." He handcuffed one of Dean's arms to the table and left.

A thing like being handcuffed didn't deter Dean for long. He looked over and saw a paper clip sticking out of his dad's journal, pulled it out and picked the handcuff lock. He then climbed out of the window onto the fire escape- with his dad's journal in hand.

Meanwhile, Sam was driving around when his cell phone rang. He answered it.

It was Dean, calling from a phone booth. "Fake 911 phone call Sammy?" he teased. "I don't know, that's pretty illegal."

"Actually," Rose said, tapping on the glass by Dean's head. "That was me. And you're welcome." She squeezed into the phone booth beside Dean. "Hi, Sam." She tugged on the phone and Dean's ear both, until Dean was stooped awkwardly inside the small space and it was easier for her to talk to both of her brothers at once. Well, as well as she could over Dean's rather loud protests at the position. "Dean's out," she announced.

"Yeah," Sam laughed, "I got that."

"Listen," Dean said, tone urgent. "We gotta talk."

"Tell me about it," Sam replied. "So the husband was unfaithful, we are dealing with a Woman in White for sure. She's buried behind her old house. So that should have been dad's next stop." Sam was practically vibrating in his seat with excitement. "But how we know that is amazing, Dean! Rose has some incredible gifts; I have no idea why Dad left her at school given his insane level of obsession."

That was not how Rose wanted Dean to find out, so she panicked just a little, saying, "Sammy would you shut up for a second!" She coughed when Dean looked at her funny. "I think Dean has something important he's trying to tell us."

"I just can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Sam mused, only sort of paying attention to his siblings.

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you" Dean said in a slight huff. "He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What?" Both younger Winchesters asked in unison, creating a rather odd echo effect in Dean's ears that made him blink. "How do you know?"

"I've got his journal."

"His what?" Rose asked.

"He doesn't go anywhere without that." Sam said slowly.

"Without what?" Rose asked again.

"Yeah, well he did this time."

"Hellooooo," Rose muttered, "a confused person is asking questions here."

"What's it say?" Sam asked.

"Same old ex-marine crap when he wants to let us know where he's going." Dean only answered his brother's question. (His sister was seriously considering stepping on his toe.)

"Coordinates. Where to?"

Rose decided against causing her brother pain in favor of listening to the really important bit.

"I'm not sure yet."

The very unhelpful important bit.

"I don't understand," Sam was saying. "I mean what could be so important that dad would just skip out in the middle of a job?" He smacked the steering wheel once in frustration. "Dean, what the hell is going on? Whoa!"

There was a screeching sound as Sam dropped his cell phone and slammed on the breaks to avoid a woman in white in front of the car.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean yelled

They could both hear Constance, who was in the backseat of the Impala, saying piteously, "take me home."

Dean squeezed out of the phone booth and started running toward the old Welch home.

His sister held onto the phone for another instant. "Sam!" Rose ordered, "take her home, Sam! We gotta get her into that house!" With that, she was following in her brother's footsteps, and doing a pretty remarkable job of keeping up.

"Take me home," Constance was repeating in the backseat.

"No." Sam said, figuring that doing what she wanted was the fastest way to get himself killed.

The doors locked of their own accord. He nearly ripped off his own fingernails trying to unlock them and escape but wasn't able to. The car was put in gear and the gas pedal was pressed in. He couldn't even take control the steering wheel from Constance, so he let go and tried to push the door out. Constance's image flickered in the back seat as the car pulled up to the house at the end of Breckenridge Road . The car shut off, even though the doors were still locked. Don't do this," Sam said quietly-not begging, but asking.

"I can never go home." There were tears in the spirit's eyes.

"Why?" Sam asked, remembering Rose's words. "What's there?" He turned back to view her face to face, but she was gone. He looked around for her and saw her when his gaze came back to the passenger seat. She jumped on top of him and pushed him down on the seat with unnatural, inhuman strength.

"Hold me," she pleaded, "I'm so cold." She was. Her ghostly skin was freezing compared to Sam's living, human warmth.

"You can't kill me," Sam insisted. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been."

Constance smirked. "You will be. Just hold me." She started kissing Sam as he tried to simultaneously reach for the car keys, which were still in the ignition, and hold back the nausea the kiss caused. Suddenly, Constance turned into more of a monster than a pretty lady. Strings of hair hanging from a mottled skull, sunken, watery eyes, and fingers transformed into predatory tallons. She disappeared, until her claws started trying to reach through Sam's chest. Sam screamed. Ripping open his jacket, he could see five finger holes going through his shirt and every time he tried to push the monster off, his hands went right through her. Because his hands weren't made of rock salt.

The shells loaded in Dean and Rose's shotguns, however, were.

They shot through the open window, distracting Constance enough for Sam to turn the engine over, and put the car into gear. "Ok, Rose," he muttered. "I'm taking her home." He floored it, going through the wall of the house.

Dean and Rose ran into the house through the hole in the wall, guns at the ready. "Sam!" Dean ran straight to their brother, while Rose headed up a flight of stairs past him. "Sam! You okay?"

"I think so," he answered with a groan.

"Can you move?"

"Yeah. Help me." Dean reached for Sam to help pull him out, as Constance picked up a picture of her and her children that was lying on the floor.

There was a point to Rose leaving her brothers to fend for themselves. She was headed for the bathroom, where she could hear water splashing. She saw two children wrapped in towels; they were dripping wet, shivering, and looking at her with big, scared eyes. "Hi," she said softly, soothingly. "I know you're lonely, but your mommy's home. She's in the next room."

Meanwhile, Dean helped Sam out of the car and they were standing in front of it, taking a millisecond to try to catch their breath and prepare for the fight. Constance threw the picture on the ground, and stepped aside, telekinetically controlling a large dresser. She used it to pin Dean and Sam against the hood. Even with the both of them struggling to try to push it away, Constance's mental powers were too great for them to even budge it.

Suddenly, the lights flickered on and Constance turned around to see the steps leaking water. She looked to the top of the staircase and saw her two children standing there, Rose behind them, face pale but triumphant. The children joined hands. "You've come home to us mommy," they said joyfully.

The Winchesters watched as Constance's children appeared behind her. They grabbed their mother. She screamed in pain and fear, as she and her children were surrounded by bright light. It seemed like they flickered within the light, bones and sinew revealed as they shook. Finally, all three melted into a sort of puddle on the ground.

Finally Sam and Dean were able to push the dresser off of them, fairly easily too. They walked over to the small puddle on the ground.

"So, this is where she drowned her kids," Dean said, sounding a lot less sorry about it than he felt.

"That's why she could never go home." Rose came down the stairs, staring at the spot on the floor. "She was too scared to face them." She really wanted to hold onto both brothers' hands, but she didn't.

"You found her weak spot," Dean praised. "Nice work, Rosie." The smile he got in thanks was the brightest thing he'd seen in days.

"Well, it was mostly good work," Sam said as he started laughing. "And, Dean what was with you today? What were you two thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freaks?"

"Hey, we saved your ass," Rose protested, only to have Dean smack her in the back of the head. "OW!"

"Don't use that word! I'll wash your mouth out with soap!" He threatened.

"That's not fair!" She argued. "You guys use that word and worse all the time. Sam, back me up here."

"No way," he said, "I'm not gonna let you cuss either."

"Not fair," she crossed her arms and pouted a little.

"We're your older brothers," Sam reminded her. "We don't have to be fair."

"Yeah and let me tell you something else that's not fair," Dean said, rounding on Sam. "If you screwed up my car, I'll kill you." They all pitched in to clean the wood from the wall off the car. He didn't kill Sam over the busted headlight, but he thought hard about it for a minute.

The started heading out of town immediately, Sam in the front seat looking at the map to find out where "35-11" was located. "Okay here's where dad went," he said at last. "It's called Blackwater Ridge , Colorado ."

"Sounds charming," Rose piped up from the backseat. "How far?"

"About 600 miles."

"If we shag ass we can make it by morning," Dean said happily, glad to have a real destination in mind.

"Dean, um…" Sam started, then trailed off.

"You're not going." It wasn't really a question.

"The interview's in 10 hours," Sam explained. "I gotta be there."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

"What about me?" Rose asked quietly, pulling her knees up to her chest, which was tricky considering the seatbelt Dean and Sam made her wear.

""What do you want?" It wasn't something they'd ever asked her before and Dean could feel her surprise that he was asking now. Which made him feel guilty as hell.

_I want us to stay together_, she thought but didn't say. "I wanna help find Dad," she vocalized. "I wanna hunt. I'm not like you, Sam; I can't live a normal life even if I wanted to."

"Yeah, what does that even mean?" Dean frowned. "What were you talking about earlier, Sam? Rose's gifts? I told YOU about the whole, future thing."

"Past too," Rose mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Dean was sure that he had to have misheard. Sam quickly filled Dean in on the events at Joseph Welch's house, as well as what she'd told him about her solo hunts.

Dean was about to snap at her for "being such an idiot" but the words died in his throat unspoken when he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She was curled up in a little ball of misery at the thought of how disappointed her brothers were with her. (Even if they were more mad at her for being careless and not disappointed at all).

"I know." She sounded tired. "I was dumb. I'm sorry."

"Just, promise me, us, that if, for some reason, there's something going down and one of us isn't already with you, you'll call."

She sniffed. "I promise."

"Good," Sam interjected, "but from now on, one of us is always going to be around." He was never as grateful for his long limbs as when he could reach around the seat and lay his hand on her knee.

"Always?" She asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, well, we'll let you pee and shower by yourself," Dean amended. She laughed and sounded like she used to when she was small and watching Chip and Dale. "Oh yeah," Dean muttered to himself, "boarding school can go straight to hell."


	12. Twelve Chocolate Chip Cookies

_AN: So, I'm actually rather proud of this one. hopefully now that I've said that, no one will think it sucks. No matter what you think, reviews are appreciated and help me write more. :) Thanks though to everyone who's reviewed so far. They mean so much! *hands out brownies* Betad by the always wonderful SylvannaWinchester. _

They were a silent group as Dean pulled up to Sam's apartment. Sam grabbed his bag and clambered out of the front seat. "You'll call me if you guys find him?" he asked, fake cheerfulness in his voice. Dean nodded slowly. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" Sam tried his hardest not to look at Rose because he knew that the sad eyes she was unwittingly giving him would make him cave completely and abandon the plan.

"Yeah, all right," Rose said softly, tears filling her eyes, unable to believe that her family was breaking up again in front of her. All she could see was Sam heading off to college like he did the first time. Even if she was proud of him, it still hurt like hell.

Still not looking at her, or at Dean either, Sam ruffled her hair affectionately then turned and started to walk towards his apartment.

Dean couldn't quite take it. "Sam," he called out, making Sam turn back to look. "You know we made a hell of a team back there." Dean himself wasn't sure if he was trying to convince his little brother to stay or not. He just knew that he didn't really want to say goodbye again. He'd never done that very well.

"Yeah," Sam acknowledged with a sad smile. He didn't say anything else and neither did his siblings.

Instead, Dean and Rose just watched him until the shadows ate him up. Dean drove away slowly, while Rose made herself more comfortable in the back seat, toeing off her pink sneakers. She had a pretty bad headache (she usually did when she'd used her powers and she'd used them a lot in the past few days). She was distracted, momentarily, from her pain, by Dean saying "You know, I was including you in that 'we' I mentioned earlier. You were pretty good out there yourself."

She grinned. "Thanks." She couldn't see Dean's face, but she could see the grip of his hands on the steering wheel. It was definitely his brooding, moping grip. "Hey, Deano, he's gonna come around."

"That a prediction?" he asked, corners of his mouth turning up despite himself.

"Naaaw," she drawled, "I just OW!"

"What?" he asked, looking backward (and really straining his neck to do so) and seeing Rose with her head buried in her hands.

"My ears are ringing," she complained breathlessly. "It almost sounds like words, like somebody's shouting in another language or something. Ow, God!" She gasped, clutching her skull tighter when the pain spiked. "God, it feels like somebody's taking a drill to my brain!"

Trying not to panic, Dean started to pull off to the side of the road. "Let me have a look at you," he said calmly as he could, opening her door and pulling her gently towards him. "Rosie?"

She clutched blindly at his jacket, her eyes squeezed shut to keep out any light. "Shush. Ow…hurts… can almost see something… hear something… Ow, God!" she babbled, not even noticing the storm that had started around them.

Dean didn't know what to do so he just held her tight and rocked her back and forth with his knees on the asphalt without saying anything.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open. "Dean! Go back! Sam's in trouble! Go back!"

It had started out non-disturbingly enough for the youngest Winchester male. He'd opened the front door and walked inside, calling out, "Jess! You home?" She hadn't answered, so he walked through the kitchen.

On the counter was a plate of chocolate chip cookies, with a note in front of them that read, "Missed you! Love you!" He smiled and took one, eating it as he walked into the bedroom. He heard the shower running, so he sat on the bed, closing his eyes to relax. He fell backwards onto the mattress, sighing contentedly, having not really slept since the hunt started.

Suddenly, one drop of something dripped onto his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, not wanting to deal with the thought of a leaky roof on top of everything else. Then a couple more drops fell. He opened his eyes reluctantly. "No!" he screamed.

Jess was on the ceiling, dead. Her abdomen was cut open and her eyes were wide, staring down at him in fear and pain. He screamed again, watching helplessly as she burst into flames.

Just then, Dean kicked in the door, Rose right behind him. "Sam!"

Sam ignored them, still screaming out "Jess!"

Sam was still lying on the bed, while his siblings continued their way into the bedroom to get him out of the apartment.

The ceiling was falling down around them. The fire had spread incredibly quickly, already licking at the walls and the floor in some places.

Dean grabbed Sam off the bed and tried to run him out of the room, which was hard considering Sam was almost five inches taller. "We gotta get out of here!" he exclaimed.

"Jess! No!" Sam continued to shout.

Rose was staring at the scene-transfixed, perversely fascinated. It was their mother all over again. She couldn't make herself move. "Rose, come on!" Dean used the arm not dragging Sam, to grab Rose's collar and drag her as well – saving both their lives.

Just like when Mary Winchester had been killed, stuck to the ceiling over Rose's cradle. John had been on the floor of Rose's nursery, staring at his wife in horror. Ten-year-old Dean had run past his father and the flames to scoop his little sister out of her cradle and, dragging Sam by the hand behind him, had gotten them both out alive.

In the present, the room erupted into fire just behind the trio, blowing out the windows and . They watched from the ground outside as firemen arrived and extinguished the fire. Well, Dean watched.

Sam and Rose was over by Dean's car; Sam loading a rifle by the trunk, Rose wrapping her arms around her knees in the backseat looking forlornly at her favorite pair of socks, which had been ruined by running into a burning building without putting on shoes first and pretending that was all she had to be upset about.

Dean and Sam looked at each other for a moment, Dean's hand resting on Rose's hair, then Sam sighed and nodded his head. He threw the loaded rifle into the trunk and slammed it shut. "We got work to do."


	13. Author's Note

AN: So, I told y'all this is an epic project and this is the end of part one. Therefore, I have a proposition for you... I'm going to start Part Two as a new story. If you want the adventures of the Winchester trio to continue that is... I already have the first chapter so don't worry, I just don't want anyone bogged down with one massive set of chapters to try and navigate. I'll start this story-titled "Hell's Bells" on Saturday April 9, unless...there are strenous review objections to this. If not, see y'all on Saturday!

Hell's Bells is Up and Running as of NOW! :)


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